Entangled: A Story of Corruption In Five Parts
by ethereal-zoe
Summary: ﻿The rise to power is not without its sacrifices and every king must have his queen. In this tale, arnyoung witch learns exactly what one must sacrifice to obtain what one desires.


Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Rating: R

Summary: The rise to power is not without its sacrifices and every king must have his queen. In this tale, a young witch learns exactly what one must sacrifice to obtain what one desires. Will she fight the ties that bind her to one particular wizard, or will her own desires lead to her destruction?

Entangled - A Story of Corruption in Five Parts

Sentenced to drift far away now,

Nothing is quite what it seems,

Sometimes entangled in your own dreams.

--- from "Entangled" by Genesis

I.

Five years ago, she lost both of her brothers to the enemy. Once they were buried, her parents never mentioned their names again, focusing instead on herself and her sisters.

She, however, could not be content pretending they had not existed. She wanted answers.

She found them in the company of her mentor, a wizard respected by everyone of her family's acquaintance. He discovered her while she was still in her first year at Hogwarts. She was, as he preferred, too old to be completely forbidden but too young to understand the complications of a relationship with an older wizard. This pleased him very much.

And she was quite innocent. This pleased him more.

During their first private meeting, he taught her to fly. He placed her on the broom first before climbing on behind her, and allowed her to control their direction and altitude. As they soared high through the air, he spoke to her of what he knew of her brothers' fates. She had wanted to hear the truth, but not at that moment, when she was breathless with her first real taste of power. As he anticipated, her control faltered with each detail he shared and they plunged downward.

The young girl screamed, losing all of the composure she had learned under her mother's tutelage. She envisioned her own broken body, lying twisted next to those of brothers. The wizard, however, only grasped her around the waist, quickly pulling her back toward him. The hardness of the broomstick between her legs matched the hardness of his grip, and her stomach rolled with panic. Tears sprang into her eyes as she thought of her beloved brothers and how she would see them again soon.

At what seemed the last possible moment, the wizard reached between the girl's legs and grabbed the broom, pulling them back into the air. They circled a few times before they landed. When they were safely on the ground, she fought the urge to fall to her knees to thank Merlin, and turned instead to sob into her mentor's shoulder.

He allowed her a moment of indulgence, stroking her hair and holding her tightly.

"There is power in most innocent of actions, children," he whispered. "If you cannot control your actions, regardless of the circumstances, then you cannot control the power."

Her only reaction was to sob harder at his words.

Pushing her away slightly, he sought her eyes. "A dear girl. What would you have done without me here?"

"I - I don't know, sir," was her shameful reply.

"Then, you should hope I never leave you."

_Don't_, she thought? _Don't leave me._

His grip on her tightened before he captured her lips with his own.

II.

The mist swirled around her, and her black cloak followed its pattern. Slowly, she stepped away from the dirt path, making her own way into the woods. She walked until she saw a tall figure standing far away in a pool of moonlight. The figure did not move at all, and it was only the strength of his presence that made her sure she had reached her destination.

She approached him cautiously, unconsciously lowering her head. When she spoke, it was nearly a whisper.

"You called for me, sir?"

The man turned toward the girl, taking in the entirety of her disheveled appearance with one quick glance. She felt his magic combine with his desire and envelop her, instantly weakening her defenses.

"I am glad that you have come to me so quickly," he said, striding closer to her. "Surely I have not interrupted your plans for tonight?"

Though she was still young, she had already learned that his questions were never what they seemed. Her brain rapidly turned over responses in her head until she reached the one that she thought would please him most.

"No, sir. I was studying in my room when I received your call. I had no previous engagement."

The wizard chuckled before he spoke, almost teasingly. "You were waiting for me then? You expected I would send for you?"

Again, the girl was careful. It had become easier to anger him than it was to please him.

She shook her head. "I expected nothing, sir. I could only hope that you would wish to see me. As I always do."

She slowly released the breath she had held, knowing he would accept her response when he turned his back toward her and spoke once again.

"This is a very special time for me, child. When I was no older than you are now, I saw these times clearly in the Mirror of Erised. The Mirror prophesied my rise to power."

The girl's eyes widened as he told her of what he had seen. Despite all he had taught her of the magical world, he had previously refused to discuss the Mirror of Erised with her. On occasion, she could overhear her pureblood classmates speak in hushed whispers of the ancient relic, claiming it was locked away somewhere at Hogwarts. Instead of listening to their childish gossip, she decided to seek knowledge where she always did, asking the older wizard directly. Her body ached as she remembered the punishment he had administered when she first admitted her own desire for glimpse into that Mirror.

She hadn't forgotten what he had told her then: _"All you should desire, you can see before you now."_

"Soon, I will rule all of this," he continued, raising his arms in a sweeping gesture. "I will, of course, need a dedicated witch to stand by my side."

As he lowered his arms, he could sense the change in her breathing. She had never been able to conceal her excitement from him.

"I hope you will think carefully before you choose, sir. I would want only the best for you."

"Oh, I _will_ choose carefully, child," he pledged with a smirk. Slowly, he paced around the kneeling witch. "I have spent much time during the last few months considering whom I should trust with the task."

The fact that he would have to think about his choice . . . that he would even consider another enraged her passions. The young witch rose to face him, to look him in the eyes. "Haven't I shown you can trust _me_, yet?, she questioned without thinking.

There was a clear moment of silence after her words, during which even the noises of the Forbidden Forest were muted. When the wizard's eyes began to gleam, he reached toward her. She wanted to believe he would forgive her for her bold words, but she knew him too well in that respect. Grasping her chin softly, he slid his palm against the soft skin of her cheek, caressing it. Involuntarily, she leaned into his touch, and at that moment, the gentle caress turned into the stinging slap that knocked her backwards towards the ground. The girl summoned all her power to fight back the tears, but it was a useless effort. Her weakness only angered him further.

"Fool!" he shouted, as he bent to grab her around the neck and pull her from the ground. His face was flushed red with anger, his graying hair falling into his eyes. The witch felt her body being thrust back towards the trunk of a nearby tree, her back scraping against the bark. She knew he could sense her pain, but his grip on her did not lessen.

"Do not overestimate your value, girl." He enunciated each syllable clearly, the warning undeniable. "I have not committed myself to you. I could be rid of you forever before you could heave one more breath!"

"Sir!" she shouted as the pain overwhelmed her. Her breath was constricted, and she struggled against him, hands scraping against the bark of the old oak. The frantic movements caused her cloak to fall open, revealing her scant clothing underneath and adding to her vulnerability. The wizard moved his body closer to her own, and insinuated himself between her bare legs.

"I only meant that I could become what you desire! I know I am not worthy of you now! But I can earn my place, I swear it!"

His unwavering gaze pierced through her, and as unconsciousness enveloped her, she could not help but notice how close his free hand came to the wand he kept tucked deep in his robes. To her surprise, however, he released her and her body fell again to the ground.

She heaved and coughed, the air filling her lungs too quickly. The rapid return of oxygen to her brain left her body limp and weak. She rubbed at her throat, imagining the bruises she would have to conceal come the morning.

"Please, sir," she begged, bile rising in her throat. "Forgive me."

At her pleading, his fierce and incensed expression changed into the peaceful and benevolent one that had led so many others to their own destruction. With a look at his face now, she could almost believe that he was sorry for what he had caused. She could almost believe that it was someone else responsible for her pain.

The wizard raised himself to his full height, a beatific smile lighting his face. "Come to my chambers tomorrow evening. If you wish my forgiveness, you must earn it." He waved his wand twice and she found herself back in her own room, his words still reverberating in her mind.

III.

"I have a present for you, child." The wizard held a box out towards her.

So many years had passed, and he still called her "child". Still, she was thrilled that her Master had remembered the occasion. It could not, without irony, be called an anniversary, but it did not escape her memory that they had taken that first flight twenty years ago today.

"Thank you, sir." She could barely suppress her grin. "But, I am afraid I have not brought you a gift."

He wrapped his arms around her and she stiffened imperceptibly until she realized his intention was only to remove her dress.

"I did not expect a gift, child," he informed her, his eyes following the path her black and grey hair made towards the small of her pale back. "You will please me tonight as you usually do."

The witch nodded and opened the box to find a transparent globe encased in velvet.

"A Pensieve," the wizard informed her. "So that we may relive that day."

"You are immensely thoughtful, sir," the witch replied. She pressed the palm of one hand to his and grabbed the Pensieve with the other. Immediately, she was pulled into her past. She could both see the images of the past unfold before her and feel the excitement of the moment. She saw herself as a child, laughing with abandon as she flew through the sky in the wizard's arms.

He moved to stand behind her, mimicking his younger self's actions and pulling her towards him.

"Tell me what you wanted then, my child." His voice was gruff in her ear.

"I wanted you, sir. Simply to be near you." Her breath hitched as his hand made its way up her thigh to the junction between her legs. His touch made her feel brazen. It was permission, and she did not hesitate to speak her mind. "Did you want me, sir?"

"I admit that I did," he replied as he rocked against her. "You should have been able to feel my desire for you even then."

"I was afraid, sir. I thought we were going to die."

The older wizard laughed, but did not cease in his calculated ministrations. "It would take more than the foolishness of a girl like you to destroy me, child. It would take more than you know."

"That's not what I meant, sir!" Her protest ended in a moan as he crooked his finger and mercilessly rubbed at that spot inside her that left her lose all control.

"I know what you meant, girl. I always know." He opened his robes and pulled her closer, entering her quickly. She desperately pushed against him as they both watched as their younger selves descended rapidly towards the ground. An excitement filled her that she could not recall then. A mixture of time engulfed her until she could not separate the fear of the past from the pleasure of the present. True power, she knew in that moment, was the ability to control death itself.

His thrusts were quick and forceful, and the witch wondered at his ability to control both her pleasure and his own. He was rarely gentle when he took her, and despite the sentimentality that brought them here that evening, this was no exception. But more prevalent than his insistent thrusting into that sensitive part of her body was his presence in her mind. As he had in the past, he unlocked all of her secrets and laid her bare before him, making this experience unlike any of their previous meetings..

She tried to focus on her immediate pleasure, but a different voice invaded her mind. As from a distance, she heard the words of the only wizard powerful enough to threaten the man behind her. He too had promised her a place by his side, but his hands had been far gentler, coaxing her into a state of exquisite passion without force.

_Don't be a fool. He doesn't care about any of us. If you follow him, you'll regret it._

"What distracts you, my child?" he asked suddenly, breaking through her thoughts with a tone that barely concealed a degree of hatred she could not comprehend. His thrusts were more insistent now, and her pleasure was clearly no longer a concern for him.

"Nothing, sir," she lied, squeezing her eyes shut and tightening her muscles futilely to withstand the deeper thrusts. "I think only of you."

"Liar," he replied. He did reach for his wand then, and when he pointed it towards her, a few mumbled words intensified her feelings to the point of agony.

"Sir!," she howled and panted. "Please, sir! Stop! I can't take it!"

He did not reply, except to bury his head in her neck and grind out his pleasure until he released himself inside her. After a few more thrusts, he pulled away, donning his robe and leaving the room.

In the Pensieve, the witch could see herself at twelve, clinging hysterically to her future.

IV.

It has been many years since their first meeting, and the witch has grown old. He still possesses her, but their roles have changed. She has earned the right, through blood and pain, to call him _Albus_. To some, it would that she is the more stern of the two. But they do not know what goes on in private.

As she does every year, the witch presents a new group of wizards and witches to the Headmaster. Though she occasionally loses a few with potential, she is able to lead the majority of those young minds towards the Light.

This year is no different, and she leads the group into the Great Hall. Without looking, she knows he is watching her make her way towards him.

She cannot be seated until the children are all sorted. Though her mind is occupied, her body instinctively knows when the task is done because that is the exact moment that her legs carry her to her place at the Head Table before then give way.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," he begins.

V.

"Professor," the girl calls, and Minerva moves to inspect the work of her pupil. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I've done it, Professor," the girl said, beaming. "I've turned my match into a needle!"

Minerva smiles and clasps the shoulder of the first year student.

"Very good, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor. Share with the class how it was done."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said, beaming. "It was just a matter of understanding the properties of each and manipulating one to become more like the other."

"You show great promise, Miss Granger. I shall have to tell the Headmaster of your abilities." She pretends not to see as Harry Potter and the Weasley boy roll their eyes at their overacheiving classmate.

When Minerva returns to her desk at the front of her classroom, she is barely surprised to see Fawkes descending into the classroom with a note in his beak. With a steady hand, she strokes the phoenix, who rubs against her in approval. Slowly, she opens the message, already knowing who it is from.

It reads:

_Minerva,_

_Meet me tonight in the Forest. We have much to discuss. Dress appropriately._

_Professor Dumbledore_

"As you wish, Sir," she scribbles quickly. Returning the note Fawkes, she watches as the phoenix takes flight and returns to their Master.


End file.
